


Bystander

by Tickette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Big Brother Gabriel, Gas-N-Sip, Head Injury, High School Student Dean, M/M, Misunderstandings, Nurse Meg Masters, Veteran Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-05 03:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tickette/pseuds/Tickette
Summary: Dean meets Cas while working at the gas station and thinks he is homeless.  He then thinks he is in an abusive relationship with a shorter man with red hair when he is yelled at and made to get into a car.  Cas will come in looking beat to hell in his worn out clothes.  Dean is nice to him and wants to help him, but every time the redhead finds Cas and takes him away.  What can Dean do to help?The last time Cas comes to visit, things take a bad turn.  Afterward Cas' situation is finally revealed, Dean is shocked and in disbelief.





	1. First Meeting

Dean first saw Cas when he was a senior in high school working at the Gas n’ Sip convenience store a few blocks from his home. He told his parents he wanted to make some extra money to buy a car. He wanted to prove to them that he was a responsible person. To be honest, he had an ulterior motive. Dean wanted his parents’ 1967 Chevrolet Impala and he knew he had a snowball’s chance in Hell of getting it the way he had been acting.

  
The come-to-Jesus moment happened three weeks before the new school year. Dean drug in one morning around four am and both his parents were waiting up for him. Dean had been partying all summer after his Junior year. He did as little as he could get away with at home, then hung out with his friends drinking, doing some drugs, and basically screwing around.  
That morning John and Mary laid into him and all he wanted to do was sleep. The worst part of it was that neither one of them yelled at him. They spoke firmly, yet in a normal volume. That is what sobered him the most. He listened and it opened his eyes to their disappointment and sadness. Dean had been so selfish and self centered, he had no clue what his behavior had done to his family. That nearly sobered him the rest of the way.

  
The next day John and Mary let him sleep it off. They would bring him ibuprofen and water, food and juice. Both treated him as always. Dean knew he had to make some changes. He lay in his bed and did a lot of thinking. By supper time, Dean had made some decisions.

  
The first thing he did was clean his room. The second thing he did was texted his friends and tell them he was grounded. The third thing he did was grumble about having to do the dishes. Dean may have decided to change himself, but he was still a teenager. By the end of two weeks Dean had reinvented himself, complete with a part time job and a new checking account.  
Thus on a bright and sunny Saturday afternoon in September, Dean was working the counter at the Gas n’ Sip three blocks from his home and hating every minute of it. This new found lifestyle was boring as hell, but he never wanted to see that look of disappointment and disapproval on his parents’ faces ever again.

  
The day was slow for a weekend so Dean was getting in some homework done. He finished his English and math and now just had history to go. That was one good thing about this job. He could do his schoolwork as long as he had all the work done. Dean looked up from his history book he was supposed to be studying when he heard the bell over the door. He stood hoping it to be some pretty girl he could flirt with and pass the time. He sighed in disappointment, his smile turned into a frown when he saw a hunched over boy, probably his age, with shaggy, black hair, ragged clothes, and a limp come in.

  
_He needs a haircut, just like Sammy._

  
Dean sat back down on his stool and idly watched as the boy wandered over to the wall of drinks on the far right of the store where he disappeared behind the shelves of candy, snacks, groceries, and trinkets. Dean went back to his book to try to cram some more facts into his brain, but gave up after a few minutes.

  
Dean really was trying hard. He kept a picture of Baby, yes he called the Impala Baby, in his wallet to remind him of one of his goals. Dean so wanted to be out on the lake with his friends today, however, he was grounded, self imposed, but grounded nonetheless. He texted his friends the day after his revelation that he could not go out until Halloween. He gave himself about two and a half months to get his act together.

  
Shortly the lone customer limped up to the counter with a Mt. Dew. He looked older than Dean's first guess given the thick dark stubble covering his lower face, but that is not what caught Dean’s attention. The man was beat to crap. He had a huge scabbed over scrape that covered his left cheek from nose to his ear, temple to chin, his left eye had an old bruise that was was brown, green, and yellow, a brace on his left wrist, more scabby scrapes that covered his left forearm, and a walking boot cast on his right foot. He also looked like a stiff wind would knock him down, he was so thin. Dean tried not to stare as he rung him up.

  
“Eighty-eight cents.” Dean wondered if the guy had enough money because his tee shirt and jeans looked so worn out and faded. What he did not expect was for the guy to smell clean. Dean mentally hmm-d at that. Maybe he was not as destitute as Dean initially thought.

  
The man looked down at his hand when he pulled out a handful of change from his right front jean pocket. He carefully counted out the exact change then handed it over to Dean. He smiled a wide, toothy, gummy smile.

  
“Thank you, Have a good day.” Dean smiled back.

  
“You, too,” the man replied. His voice was gravely and deep, like he had not talked in a long time. He then nodded and took his drink as he left.

  
Dean watched him walk out the doors then he stood just outside in the sunlight. He leaned against the window, slouching low to sit on the edge of the windowsill. Dean saw the man twist open the bottle cap and took a long drag. Dean almost laughed at the expression on the man's face. _Maybe they should get a room._ Dean shook his head and greeted the next person who had come in the door.

  
It was a about ten minutes later when Dean noticed that the guy was no longer alone outside, but was now accompanied by a shorter, redheaded man. Dean could not hear what was being said but he saw that Redhead was angry and snatched the soda from Limping Guy, throwing it in the trash, then forcibly maneuvering him to a red Hyundai four door. Probably a Sonata, Dean thought. He frowned at the exchange and wondered what was going on. Limping Guy looked sad and Redhead was mad.

  
Dean could not ponder it much longer because a group of younger teens came in then and the place was busy.


	2. Rainy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a rainy October, Cas comes in and they introduce themselves and talk a bit.

 

The next time Dean saw Cas was a couple of weeks later.  He didn't even know he was looking for him until the man came in out of the rain that October morning.  Dean had been checking out a man and woman who needed directions to the interstate when Limping Guy came in. 

 

He was soaked to the skin and shivering.  He had on a tattered trench coat that seemed to do little to protect him from the rain, sweat pants, a dirty white athletic shoe, and what looked like an old work boot.  He brushed his long, black hair out of his eyes, then rubbed his face to remove some of the water.  This action revealed that he his right eye had a huge shiner that looked fresh, one to two days old by the black and blue coloration, the swelling, and a cut on his right eyebrow that had three stitches in it.  His left eye seemed to be mostly healed, as were the scrapes,  from the first time Dean saw him.

 

Dean got over his initial shock and noticed that the man was moving better, though a bit unsteady, the medical boot was off, but his wrist was still braced.  Dean watched as he walked over to the set of three booths to the left of the store, pull off his coat, and sat down.  Not many people were out and about today.  Dean figured it was a combination of the temperature drop and the rain.  Dean sure enough did not want to be out in it.

 

After the couple left, Dean looked around to find he was alone except for Limping Guy.  He really needed something else to call him because the guy was no longer limping.  Dean chuckled to himself as he walked around the counter over to the booth area.

 

“Can I get you anything?” Dean asked.  Normally people would get some nachos or a hot dog and eat in.  Not many, but enough to justify the booths.  

 

The man turned his head toward Dean and smiled.  It was the same type of smile from the last time he was here, although Dean could tell the man was either very tired or in pain, and his black eye looked so much worse up close.  The combination made the man look so much older.  Dean schooled his features to stop himself from showing pity or disgust.

 

“I am cold.  What do you recommend?” he replied.  He held up a finger before Dean could answer and dug around in his pockets.  Shortly he pulled out a handful of coins and then counted them.  “For a dollar and seven cents?”  

 

Dean could not think of a thing that was not cold.  Then he thought, coffee.  “Do you like coffee?  I just made a fresh pot.”

 

The man frowned then said, “I do not know.  I do not recall having it before.”

 

Dean smiled.  “Let me get you a cup and you can try it.  Do you like sweet?”

 

The man frowned again and tilted his head to the right slightly, as if in deep thought.  “I think I like sweet.  Like sugar?  Yes, I like sugar.”

 

“Well hold on.  Sit over there, the vent blows directly on the bench, and try to get dry.  I'll bring you some coffee.”  Dean took a couple of steps away when the man thanked him.  Dean just waved his hand without looking back.

 

Dean poured a cup of coffee then added creamer and a shot of chocolate.  Dean liked his coffee that way on cold days, not that he would ever admit to it.  When he set the coffee down on the table the man tried to give him money. 

 

Dean held up his hands to quell the actions.  “Nope, you're good.  If you don't like it you don't have to pay.  If you do, then you know what to order next time.”  Dean smiled and went to the front counter when he heard the bell of the front door.

 

Dean stole a glance and sure enough, the man had on a pleased look while he drank the hot beverage.  He wandered back over when they were alone again.  

 

“What do you think?” Dean smile down at the man.

 

“I like it, Dean,” the man replied and quickly added when Dean made a face, “I read your name tag.  My name is Cas, by the by.”  He held out his hand to Dean.

 

Dean chuckled, he was not used to people knowing his name before he tells them.  He patted his name tag then shook Cas’ hand.  He noticed that Cas’ hand was trembling, not the shivering from before.  It made him wonder what was wrong.  “No problem, I keep forgetting it's there.  Cas, short for anything?”

 

Cas nodded.  “Castiel.  It's too formal for everyday, don't you think?”  He laughed, ducking his head.  “Would you like to join me?”

 

Dean smiled and scooted into the booth opposite Cas.  “I can sit awhile.  I just have to watch the door.  What brings you out on such a lovely day?”  Dean gestured to the weather on the other side of the glass.

 

Cas looked out the window.  He blinked a few times, looked down at the table, and said, “I had to get out of the house.  It gets so stifling in there.  Same four walls, every day.  Well more like twenty-four walls.”  He let out a dismissive laugh then sighed.

 

Dean could read some sort of strong emotion threaded in the words, but he could not pinpoint it.  He knew he hated when people asked if he was okay or what he was feeling.  They should take ‘I'm fine’ and let it drop.  

 

However, he could not stop himself, Dean had to ask about the eye.  “How'd you get the fantastic shiner?  I hope the other guy looks worse.”  He chuckled to ease his prying.

 

Cas touched his right eyebrow and winced, even though he had a smile on his face.  He gave a laugh and said with a flourish, “Oh yes, it was an epic battle.  There were flying fists and falling bodies.”  He laughed again though it seemed nervous to Dean.  Cas’ eyes cut to the window, back to Dean, then down to the table top.  “I ran into my bedroom door going to the bathroom the other night.  Gabe said I should have woken him up to help.”  Cas rolled his eyes.  “I mean, what the shit?  Like I don’t know my way around my own damn house? I am not a fucking baby.”

 

The change in tone was striking.  Dean thought Cas was an out to throw a punch at him.  Dean sat back to get some distance.

 

“Sucks man.  And stitches, ouch.  Maybe you should turn on a light,” Dean said.  He was very suspicious of that story.  Cas’ anger seemed to disappear as fast as it appeared.  Cas was fiddling with sleeves of his stained sweatshirt, not looking at him.  Dean was about to say something more, but he heard the bell on the front door.

 

“That’s me.  Let me know if I can get you another.”  Dean knocked on the tabletop a couple of times then went over to check out a man and small boy.  

 

Dean was about to go back over a few minutes later after he made sure there were no more people coming in, when his phone beeped.  He texted back and forth with his friend Benny.  He really did want to go to the party tonight.  He was jonesing for social interaction, but he grit his teeth and stuck to his guns.  Damn it.

 

He turned to Cas and saw his posture had stiffened as he looked out the window.  Cas was then trying to get out of the booth when the bell on the door rang and he froze.  Dean saw a short redheaded man walk in, eyes searching.  It was the same man from the other day.  Redhead’s face changed from concerned to angry.

 

“Cas!  What the ever living fuck?  We had no idea where you were,” he started yelling and gesturing at Cas from across the room.  When he got to the table he was furious, though his voice was lowered.  “Was that coffee?  Coffee!  How many cups?”  He picked up the cup and peered inside.

 

“Half, I just had a half of one, Gabe.”  Cas’ voice was low, but there was fear.  

 

“You can’t have -” Redhead, Gabe, started then stopped, his face going from enraged to stoney.  “You know what, forget it.  Come on, we're going home.” 

 

Cas was quickly moving to comply.  His hands were shaking and his posture was hunched.  Gabe jerked Cas the rest of the way out of the booth and shoved his trench coat at him.  Cas was fumbling it as Gabe pulled him along by his right arm.

 

“I’m sorry, Gabe.  I --” Cas had his head down apologizing.  He stumbled and nearly fell.

 

“No butts, Cassie.  Do I really have to watch you twenty-four/seven?  Am I going to have to lock the fucking doors?  Why?  Why do you make me do this?”  Gabe was still furious.  He continued to berate Cas as he manhandled him out the door and to his car.

 

Dean stood frozen to the spot.  That was awful.  He could not believe what he had witnessed.  That was abuse if he had ever saw it.  Gabe had to be a boyfriend or something and Cas was taking the brunt of his anger.  Despite being shorter than Cas, he was the dominate partner.  It was not right.  He should have done something, Dean was kicking himself.  He needed to talk to his mom.  He pulled out his phone to dial her when a group of people came in.  He grit his teeth and resolved to call her as soon as he could.

  
  



	3. Coffee and Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas comes back into Dean's gas station and they talk over coffee. Dean gives Cas the literature on abusive relationships and how to get help. Cas tries to explain their relationship and Dean is not buying it. How can Dean get Cas to get the help he needs?

Dean couldn't help but wonder about Cas.  He had not seen him in three weeks.  The weather had turned colder and Dean remembered that Cas had crap clothes.  Redhead, Gabe, had been smartly dressed in black pants, black shoes that seemed new, and a heavier rain coat with a hood the last time Dean saw him.  If they were in a relationship, Gabe was the aggressor.  

 

Dean had talked to his mother that night.  Mary was sympathetic but had no answers he wanted to hear.  John, his father, was just as helpful.  Both his parents agreed that he did the right thing by staying out of it.  They told him he could have gotten hurt if he got involved in a domestic dispute.  Their advice was for him to try to talk to Cas if he came in alone or call the police if they were there together and things got rough.  Most likely, they said, Cas would not press charges because of their relationship.

 

Dean was just angry.  He hated to see anyone in that kind of life.  He wanted to do something, so he found some information on the internet about abuse hotlines and support groups.  He printed out the pages and went to some of the places of business to get some pamphlets.  He asked his boss and she agreed to have them displayed at the store.  Dean felt a little better prepared.

 

Friday night had a decent amount of traffic flow in and out of the convenience store.  Dean was busy most of the time and his shift was almost over when Cas walked in.  Dean smiled at first then frowned at the state of the man.

 

Cas limped in favoring his right foot again.  He had no hat and was wearing that tattered trench coat, what looked like jeans, and a pair of flip flops with mismatched socks.  

_ What the hell?  Is he trying to get sick? _

 

Cas limped over to the booth and sat down.  He was shivering violently, rubbing his hands together.  

 

Dean wanted to go over, but he had a line of people to tend to.  By the time he was able to take a break, Cas was down to just shivering.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said as he sat a cup of coffee, prepared like the last time, down in front of Cas.  “What's with the beach shoes?  Don't you know you should be wearing something warmer?”

 

Dean had to suppress a gasp when Cas looked up and smiled and gave a hesitant, choppy laugh.  Cas had an ugly purple and black bruises that went from ear to ear across his throat.  His top and bottom lips were busted and had a stitch in the top and two on the bottom.  

 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, taking a sip of the coffee, “but Gave threw all my shoes away.  I was lucky to find these.”

 

Dean was dumbstruck.  Did he just hear right?  Threw away his shoes?  Dean balled up his fists when he noticed Cas’ bruised knuckles and two broken fingers on his right hand.

 

“Why the fuck did he do that?”

 

Cas sipped some more, staring into the cup as if it was speaking to him.  Without looking up he replied, “He was really mad about me leaving last time.  I tried to tell him I had to get out, but he just went on about some damned crap.  It made my fucking head hurt.”

 

Dean did not like the sound of that at all.  “Really mad?  That why he did that to you?”

 

Cas sat up with a look of surprise on his abused face.  “No!”  he said a bit too quickly to Dean’s ears.  “I tripped on a spoon I dropped and hit the kitchen table.  I tried to catch myself, but I hit the edge of the chair.”  He held up his right hand.  “Then I slipped getting up and busted my mouth on the stove.  I was making supper.”  He blushed at the last statement. 

 

The look of skepticism must have been clear as day on Dean's face because Cas tried his best to get Dean to believe him.  

 

“It's true!”

 

“So you're telling me... you tripped… and did that all to yourself?” Dean's voice betrayed his disbelief.

 

“Yes, Dean I am.” Cas looked sad yet insistent.

 

“Uh huh.”  Dean rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and leaned back.

 

“I don't know what to tell you to make you believe.  I am clumsy… and it did not hurt that bad.”  Cas bowed his head again, his coffee forgotten.

 

Dean eyed him for a minute then got up.  He went to the counter and gathered up the pamphlets and printouts on domestic violence and abuse help.  He grabbed another cup of coffee and set everything in front of Cas.  He left and let Cas to digest the information.

 

Dean helped people for the next thirty minutes.  He would sneak a look at Cas who was reading the pamphlets and printouts.  Good, Dean thought, maybe he will get help. 

 

He got a call right as the place cleared out again.  His boss was wanting to know if he could cover for Lindsey, she was sick and could not come in.  

 

“Sure, I'm good,” he said and hung up.  This gave him an excuse to stick around in case Gabe came.  Dean went back to the booth and found Cas reading with wide eyes. 

 

“Hey,” he said placing another cup of coffee in front of Cas.  

 

Cas automatically grabbed the cup and started to drink.  He flinched when the cup hit his split lips.  He did not look up when he said, “Thank you, Dean.  Um, this is not me or Gabe.”

 

“Whatever,” Dean said, acting as if he did not care.  He figured Cas still needed time to get his mind around it.  “Hey, you hungry?  There are some hot dogs or maybe a sandwich worth eating.”

 

Cas looked up at Dean and smiled.  It was weak, but it was a smile.  Dean was afraid he had pushed too hard.  Cas pulled out a handful of change and counted.

 

“I have two dollars and sixteen cents.”  Cas had a look of eager hopefulness on his face.  This made Dean wonder when the guy ate last.  

 

“That will get you the two dog special.  You want mustard or ketchup?”  Dean lied.  He would make up the difference later.

 

“Both please,” Cas answered.

 

Dean screwed up his face.  Both?  That grossed Dean out, but to each their own.  He nodded and noticed how bad Cas’ hands were trembling.  Cas’ eyes also were looking glassy and red rimmed.  Dean tried not to get too angry while he got the food.

 

When he went back, Cas was breathing quickly and looked flushed.  His eyes were glassy and seemed to have trouble focusing.  Cas pushed the coins to Dean when he put down the hot dogs.

 

Dean went to the register to drop in the coins and add a dollar and ten cents needed to pay for the food.  He looked outside and saw someone had just pulled in.  Dean watched as a bundled up person rushed inside.  When the person pulled off the toboggan and scarf, Dean saw it was Gabe.

 

Gabe ran over to where Cas was struggling with his hot dog.  “Cassie!  Oh my… Shit!”  He was holding Cas’ face in his hands.  He turned to Dean and had an unreadable look on his face.  

 

“Where any of those coffee?” Gabe demanded nodding to the Styrofoam cups in front of Cas.

 

Dean was reaching for his phone, getting ready to call the police when things went bad.  He nodded at the ferocity of the question.  He was confused as to why that was an issue, though he did remember Gabe having an angry reaction the last time.

 

“Double shit!  How many?”  

 

When Dean did not answer right away, he came over to the counter.  His look was frantic.  “How many cups of coffee did he have?”  He slapped the counter.

 

Dean backed up and stuttered, “T-two, I, I mean, all three.  With mocha creamer.  What's wrong?”  

 

Gabe’s look went to horrified.  He pulled out his phone and punched buttons as he rushed back over to Cas.  He spoke hastily into the phone giving the address.

 

Cas was looking awful.  He was sweating and trembling all over.  He dropped his food and was looking like he would fall over if Gabe had not been holding on to him.

 

Dean went over to see what was going on.  “What's happening?”

 

Gabe turned to him with fury on his face.  This caused Dean to back up.  Gabe then took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  He turned back to Cas, who had clutched onto Gabe’s sleeve, and spoke calmly as he slid into the booth next to Cas.

 

“It's going to be okay, Cassie,” his words were soothing.  “I've called the ambulance, they’ll be here shortly.  Just try to breathe.  In.  Out.  That's it.  Nice and deep.”

 

Dean watched as Gabe stroked Cas’ damp hair and kept murmuring encouraging words.  Cas looked scared.  He was sweating and his eyes were still glassy but now were completely unfocused.  Gabe had a slight tremor in his voice that told Dean he was not believing his own words.  Gabe looked at Dean.

 

“He has a severe sensitivity to caffeine along with some nasty interactions with the medications he is taking.  Cas knows better than to have caffeine, but he gets frustrated and thinks it's all lies and this happens.  You didn't know.  It's not your fault.”

 

Dean was going to ask what was wrong with Cas, but held his tongue.  He hated when people talked like he was not there and was not about to do it to Cas.  It wasn't like they were friends or anything, they had only really talked this one time.  However, Dean felt like he should protect him for some reason.

 

“Gabe, I'm sorry.  Please help me,” Cas’ voice broke.  He sounded so scared.  He reached for Dean.  “Dean, I'm sorry.  I--”

 

He was cut off when the sirens grew louder.  He screamed and started flailing his arms.  It was all Gabe could do to keep Cas restrained.  The ambulance had pulled up outside.  Soon the paramedics burst in and took control.

 

Dean moved back behind the counter as people talked and moved and ordered.  He was in a daze.  He had given Cas coffee, then two or more cups.  He thought he was being kind, instead he was killing him.

  
  
  



	4. What it is and what it ain't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is worried having not heard anything about how Cas is doing. Gabe comes by and talks to Dean.

 

Dean had not heard anything about Cas for over a week.  To be honest, he did not know who to call.  He didn't even have Cas’ last name, or Gabe’s for that matter.  So Dean just worked and went to school and worried.  He did talk to his parents about what had happened.  Mary was a nurse at Springfield General Hospital, so she said she would try to find out what if he had been admitted.  Unfortunately, she found out that Cas was taken to Shelbyville Hospital in the next town.

 

The following Sunday after the incident found Dean working.  He had just cleaned the men's toilet, again, after a kid had an accident.  That was the part of the job he could live without. Dean sat down on his stool and watched as people came and went.  Sometimes they came in and bought stuff, other times they paid outside and never came in.  He was in a daze just going through the motions.

 

Dean was knocked out of his daze when a familiar four door car pulled up and parked right outside the front door.  Dean stood and watched Gabe get out and walk into the store.  Dean unconsciously took a step back when Gabe approached the counter.

 

“Hello, Dean,” he said in a strained, polite way.  He looked tired yet not as tense as the last few times he had seen the man.

 

Dean nodded, not trusting his voice.  He wondered why Gabe was here and what it could be about.  Dean mentally deflated at the prospect that he killed Cas.  Fuck!

 

Gabe heaved a sigh and closed his eyes.  He did not look like he wanted to be here with Dean either.  He looked up into Dean's eyes when he opened his.

 

“I have been instructed to give you a message and an explanation.  Castiel wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry and let you know none of what happened was your fault.”  Gabe held up a hand when Dean opened his mouth to protest.  “He wanted you to know that he liked you and thought of you often, and hoped you were not too traumatized by what had happened.”

 

Gabe dropped his hand and cleared his throat.  He looked around and made and bee line to the cold drinks.  When he came back, Dean rung him up.

 

Dean did not know what to say to what Gabe had just told him.  He was fighting the urge to ask what had happened, although what he was fighting most was that fact he wanted to punch this man in the face.  This abuser giving Cas’ last words.

 

Oblivious to Dean's inner turmoil, Gabe opened his Coke and said, “Can you take a break so we can talk?”  His voice was sad and tired.

 

Dean stared at the man.  Dean did a quick look around and nodded.  He walked over to the booths and sat down, not waiting on Gabe.  When Gabe sat down across from him Dean said, “If someone comes in, I have to help them.  It's slow now, so talk.”

 

Gabe looked uncomfortable.  Dean could just imagine him trying to justify his actions.  Dean clenched his fists under the table, he was angry.

 

“My name is Gabe, Gabriel Novak.  I'm Castiel’s brother.  I don't know what he has told you, but I have been trying to take care of him since he got out of the hospital six months ago.  I know you have a million questions, but please hear me out.  You, like many people, have seen him.  He wanders around town, exploring.  Cassie loves the outside and wants to get out and about as much as he can.  He can't stand to be confined inside for very long.  His hospital stay nearly crushed him.  I think he has developed  claustrophobia.”  He sighed.

 

Dean sat listening to Cas’ brother.  Why was he telling him this?  Dean crossed his arms and kept his mouth shut waiting for Gabe to continue. 

 

“I try, along with the live in nurse Meg, to keep him comfortable and occupied during his time between physical therapy and doctor visits.”  He paused to take a drink.  Gabe was playing with the cap of the bottle.

 

“You see, my brother was in the Marines.  He was a soldier for about seven years.  I know this is not my place, but you have to know how he was to understand how he is now.”  Gabe took a drink of his Coke and looked down at the tabletop.  He did not look back up at Dean when he started talking again.

 

“He was on his third tour in Afghanistan, camped just outside of some bombed out town.  I don't remember or care.  A bomb went off outside their camp.  Well, it was a series of bombs.  Anyway, that's not important. The thing is, his fellow soldiers were killed, his whole unit or group, whatever they are called.  He was the only survivor, but he did not come out of it unscathed.”  Gabe downed the last of his Coke and heaved a shuddering sigh.  His eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

 

“He, he had to pull himself out from under one of his friends and radio for help.  Cassie was out there in the fucking desert for three damned days before they could get to him,” Gabe’s voice broke and he had to cover his face with his hands.  He sat there trying to steady his breathing.

 

Dean did not know what to think.  That skinny guy was a rough Marine?  Sure, Dean could see his Dad as an ex-Marine, but Cas?

 

Gabe cleared his throat and started again.  “I got the call after he had been shipped back home.  Cassie spent a year in the VA hospital in Ogdenville.  He had a severe head trauma, a broken leg, both arms broken, and several broken ribs.  His friend, I'll never forget his name, Sergeant Garth Fitzgerald IV, shielded his commanding officer, my brother from the blasts and saved his life.”

 

Dean looked away when Gabe had to wipe the tears away.  He waited on a customer while Gabe sorted himself out.  When he returned, Dean brought two cups of coffee with some sugar and creamer packets.  He watched as Gabe poured in all three sugars and two creamers.

 

“I didn't really know how to deal with Cas when he first got out, but being his only living relative that gives a damn, I am trying.  He has mood swings that will make you think he has a revolving door in his head, though I have to say they are getting better.  Cas has to take a shit ton of meds.  I am talking taking a handful with every meal.  And one of the main things is the list of things he can't have, and it is long.  No kale, grapefruit, carbonated drinks, caffeine… it goes on.  Most of the time it's fine, but when he gets it in his head that we are trying to manipulate him or we’re hiding something from him, or he is just in a mood, he is downright stubborn.”

 

Gabe made a face at the coffee after he took a drink.  He looked out the window at the overcast day.  He seemed lighter, not as stiff as when he first come in.

 

“The worst is that he can't have hamburgers.  Processed meats and fast foods are out,” Gabe paused then chuckled.  “Meg once caught him with a bag of burgers from that place down past the Kwik-E-Mart.”  He laughed out loud then, causing Dean to smile despite himself.

 

“Cas was hiding in the back of his old car with a pile of wrappers littered all around him and a bag in his lap.  You would have thought he was getting lucky by the look on his face.”

 

It was Dean's turn to laugh when he remembered that Mt. Dew.  He sobered though as Gabe continued.

 

“We can handle a few incidents, but lately he has been so… I don't know...  Broody?  Emo?  Hell, I’m not a shrink and I can’t get him to talk to his!”  Frustration emanated from the redhead.  He shrugged.

 

“The only thing he will do is his physical therapy.  Cassie’s balance has been shot to shit.”  Gabe leaned in as if to impart the importance of his next statements.  “Cassie used to be a dancer.  I'm not talking a professional or anything, but he had a grace to his movements that would make a ballerina weep.  He always won at hide and seek when we were kids.  He could walk and run without making a damned sound.  Cassie was always scaring the shit out of our parents and startling our brothers and sisters.  It was like he just appeared out of thin air.”  Gabe chuckled to himself and sat back.

 

“Brothers and sisters?  You said you were his only relative?”  Dean was sure he heard that.  He just caught Gabe in a lie.

 

“No, I said only relative that cared.  Our parents, Naomi and Bartholomew Novak, of the old money Novak and Miltons of the East, disowned Cas when he joined the military.”  Distaste and disgust was written all over his face.  “They told him to go into corporate tax and had his whole damned life all lined up for him, but he rebelled.  He thought it was for good of his country.  He was righteous in his beliefs.  He thought he was making a damned difference.  The bastard.”

 

Gabe downed the last of his coffee and sighed again.  “I won't get into it, but there were some pretty epic fights that did not end with Cassie leaving.  I ran, got the hell out of Dodge. I’ve had no contact with any of them for the last five years.  He still asks about them, he still loves them even if they don't love him.  I don't know what to tell him.  I reached out to a few times since he has gotten back, but those holier-than-thou freaks toe the line of Cassie is dead to them.”

 

Gave looked up when the bell over the front door rang.  Dean went and took care of the customers and sat back down with some water for both of them.  He had a lot of information to sort through.

 

“Even after he was in the hospital?” Dean asked, continuing the conversation.  He was baffled at that type of family.  His definition of family was that no matter what else was happening, they all rallied behind the ones in need.

 

Gabe gave a dismissive laugh and shook his head.  “Doesn't matter.  The thing is, the thing I want you to understand is that, Castiel needs twenty-four/seven care.  I am falling down in more ways than I can count and every time he gets hurt, I die a little.  He trips and busts his mouth.  He stumbles and he has another sprained an ankle.  He fucking slipped in the kitchen and nearly decapitated himself!  He won't use his walker or cane, he won't call for help.  He thinks he can still...no, that's not right. He wants to believe he is fine and pushes himself.  Damn it, I can't watch him all the time, I have to fucking work.  All his medical care cost money.  Money I don't fucking have.”

 

Dean stared at Gabe.  Did he say what he thought he said?  “You just told me Cas had good balance or something?”

 

Gabe nodded.  “Yeah, but after the explosions, he can barely walk across the floor without stumbling.  He has sprained his left wrist, both ankles, and broken most of his fingers… the black eyes, he has more fucking bruises than I can count, all in the past six months.”

 

Dean huffed and felt bad.  Cas had been telling the truth.  “So now he is really clumsy.”

 

“That’s an understatement.  It would be funny if it did not set him back so much.  It is hard for me to reconcile the bumbling fool living with me with that flawless gezelle of a man who used to be my brother.”  Gabe looked down, defeated.

 

“You know, man,” Dean said hesitantly, “I thought you were doing it.”

 

Gabe looked up with a shocked but resigned expression.  “What?”

 

“You came in three times and were all angry.  The things you said and how you acted…” Dean let the sentence end itself.

 

Gabe frowned but then nodded.  “I can see where you saw that.  I didn’t give one thought to that.  And I bet you’re not the only one to think that.  Damn it.”  He ran his fingers through his hair.

 

Dean took care of a few more customers then checked the clock.  It was five-fourty-seven.  Uriel would be coming in at seven to relieve Dean and start his shift.  Dean was knocked out of his thoughts by Gabe.

 

“He wants to see you, you know,” Gabe said quietly.

 

“What?  He… what?”  Dean was shocked.  He thought sure Cas had…  So this was not a final words talk.  Dean visibly sagged in the booth.

 

“He has been asking about you.  I told him I would try to find you and ask.  He’s home now.  I have to say, I would highly suggest you go, because otherwise he will sneak out and come here.  He’s done it before.”

 

Dean laughed remembering the three times he came in.  “What’s with his clothes?  Why does he look homeless?  And he told me you threw away all his shoes?”

 

Gabe groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.  “His clothes were donations when he was in the hospital and he didn’t want to spend any money on more.  He liked that they were soft and comfortable.  And I did NOT throw away his shoes.  Meg and I just hid them.  His, mine, and her’s.  We were trying to keep him inside.”

 

Dean smiled the sobered.  “Why does he want to see me?  I don't know him.”

 

Gabe smiled, it was warm and understanding.  “Cassie said you were kind and talked to him as if he were normal.  He does not get much of that.  I know it's odd.  But can you please come?  Not now, but sometime this week?”

 

Dean nodded and said he would.  They talked about a few more things and Gabe left with a message to Cas that Dean would be coming.  Dean was happy he was wrong about Gabe.


End file.
